


Kingly Duties

by forparadise



Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: Light Masochism, Light Sadism, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 05:18:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3475913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forparadise/pseuds/forparadise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Wingul adamantly fulfills all of his King's desires.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kingly Duties

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pallidiflora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pallidiflora/gifts).



> Prompted by the post-battle skit where Elle asks Gaius if he's a masochist.
> 
> Warnings for a violent relationship, also minor blood and choking.
> 
> A very merry, in the spirit, Christmas gift for Elincia ;D amiright
> 
> \-----

 

As a figure of prominence, there are games that Gaius has to play; and as one of his closest allies, some may even say his right hand, Wingul knows every single one of them as though he were a major player. He does whatever is needed of him adamantly, and always without question.

-

The sound of the slap is exceptional, echoing off of the large, stark walls of the mostly barren throne room. When it’s empty like this – no people bustling around, nothing but tall pillars and a lone throne sitting atop a shallow platform – every sound is amplified to an exorbitant level. Every time the two men pull away from each other to gasp for breath, the sound surrounds them in an almost intrusive way, like a third person in the room. Even the muffled moans deep in Wingul’s throat are too loud in his own ears when Gaius pushes back in with tongue and teeth, aggressive and dominating, daring Wingul to stop him.

Begging him to try.

Wingul plays along of course, there’s hardly a thing he wouldn’t do for his king, and this is one task he performs with fervor.

Gaius’ cheek is reddening where Wingul struck him, but the way he pushes against the smaller man tells him it’s not enough. Gaius is holding his hands against the wall firmly enough that Wingul’s knuckles are hurting, but despite this he doesn’t resist when Wingul struggles one free.

He makes himself gasp when his hand meets flesh this time and he can feel his palm stinging almost immediately. Gaius keeps his head turned away for a moment afterwards and it makes Wingul’s shoulders tense. When he looks back up there’s blood on the corner of his lip and his eyes are watering, but when he presses their bodies together again he’s so hard against Wingul’s thigh it makes his breath catch.

Wingul knows this game well, so with a smooth movement he reaches for the small knife he keeps tucked down the side of his boot and brings it to Gaius’ chest. His shirt’s unbuttoned and the thin blade presses against the exposed skin, enough to make a shallow cut. Gaius backs away from him but their eye contact never breaks, and it’s only a few steps until Gaius tumbles down in to the over-sized throne behind him. Wingul mounts him and drops the knife, the sound of it clattering to the solid floor fills the still air around them with neither noticing.

When Wingul kisses him again he can taste blood on his tongue, and Gaius is pulling at him frantically, opening his jacket and sliding his hands inside, rubbing and touching until Wingul pulls away with a gasp. His lips are pink with blood and Gaius is so roused he barely manages to get Wingul’s pants half-way down his thighs before he feels the man’s cock pushing against him, urging Wingul to let him in.

Wingul reaches back and guides him in with a slow push and a deep moan that reverberates off of the walls and ceiling. Wingul braces his hands on the other man’s knees when Gaius starts to move, pressing in as far as he can before pulling out to the tip – waiting for Wingul to urge him back in with a small sound or a slight movement. It’s not long until he speeds up and they create a pleasing rhythm; Gaius is holding his hips, fingers digging into pale flesh, and soon Gaius’ eyes slide shut and his head is pressed against the back of the cushioned throne. Wingul has turned reading the other man’s subtleties into an art, and he can feel the urgency this time with every sharp thrust and halted breath.

Gaius’ eyes snap open and his thrusts become uneven as Wingul brings a hand around to press against his chest, his fingers sliding over the fresh cut and reddening flesh. Gaius lets his breath out with a hiss as Wingul’s hand, fingers and palm now flat against his skin, move their way up to his neck, covered in blood, and wrap firmly around his throat.

Later, Wingul will have time to think about the way it would look to an outsider if they were ever caught performing such an unmentionable act; for now he can’t think of a single thing except the overwhelming look of pleasure on Gaius’ face, and the ecstasy he feels knowing that Gaius trusts him enough for this. The way it feels to have his hands covered in his King’s blood, to have his hands wrapped around his King’s throat, to have his King looking into his eyes when he comes inside of him.

-

When Wingul is with Gaius next, the two barely make eye contact. He stands behind his King, face turned down and shadowed, a presence more than a person. Gaius faces his people, answers their questions with an assured tone that offers no option for debate. He presents himself the way he knows they wish to see him: solid, persistent, immovable.

It’s a game that Gaius plays, and Wingul participates adamantly, and always without question.


End file.
